


The green-eyed monster

by MMBC



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Michael/Alex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:53:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMBC/pseuds/MMBC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mere thought of losing Michael to a boy’s stupidity was enough to enrage her enough to want to kill the boy, except that she knew she would only hurt Michael more, and this she could not bear to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The green-eyed monster

It was increasingly difficult to hide her jealousy for the boy, Becca found. Oh, he was the Chosen One, she knew, and in that aspect she could never compare. After all, the Chosen One would be the saviour who would unite mankind against the wrath of the angels and bring an end to this extermination that had ravaged the Earth. And mankind, in turn, was the archangel Michael’s highest priority, of course. Not a man, nor a woman, but mankind in the general sense of the word. Naturally, the Chosen One would be ranked somewhere on that highest priority space as well.

Becca understood this very well. After all, always knowing her place was one of the reasons why she was still at the top of the food chain in Vega. For all the good it did her, however, it still failed to bring her to accept where she stood in this particular matter, and that was that.

Sitting beside the dying angel and holding his hand, able to do little else but worry, has opened her eyes to a lot. Her jealousy was one of the things she learnt in the short span of time since she had discovered the true status of one Alex Lannon. Becca hated herself for feeling this ugly emotion. Yet, she could not help but hate Alex Lannon more.

She hated him for breaking Michael’s heart, defying him despite all that Michael had done for him since he was a squalling newborn. Lannon was not there on the sleepless nights Michael paced his bedroom, gazing out into the night as he sighed for the umpteenth time, eyes forlorn and disappointed. Only Becca was there to witness it all, and even if Michael reluctantly agreed to come back to bed at her pleas, she knew that in those moments, it was not her hand in his hair that put the angel back to sleep.

She hated the boy for running away from the city – had he not broken the rule just because he was a coward and could not stand to take responsibility for his position, Michael would not have had to chase after him to bring him back like he would a wayward child. Michael would not have been teetering on the edge of life and death ever since then, his breathing uncertain and his wound a gaping mess. Becca blamed Alex Lannon for it, and she would never forgive him for as long as she lives even if she had never been jealous of the boy.

Most of all, though, she hated Lannon for holding an infinitely larger space in Michael’s heart than her.

Michael would die for her, she did not doubt. The angel was too _Michael_ not to do it. And yet, he would live for Alex Lannon. He had ripped his own wings out with his hands, fought the brother whom he had loved, and died once only to be resurrected again to protect that boy. Judging from how far he had gone this time, Becca had no doubt Michael would do it all over again for Lannon. The mere thought of losing Michael to a boy’s stupidity was enough to enrage her enough to want to kill the boy, except that she knew she would only hurt Michael more, and this she could not bear to do.

Becca saw the way Michael looked at the boy. On that day at that disastrous Jubilee, before it had all gone to hell, she had seen how the angel’s eyes darkened as his gaze glued to the nondescript guard. She tried to tell herself that it was merely a phase – Michael was partial to orgies, who was it to say that he was not partial to the appeals of a man? When the events of the night cultivated into the earth-shattering revelation of their saviour, however, Becca knew that she was wrong. It broke her heart to see Michael kneel before the boy and say with a conviction that was as timeless as the angel himself: ‘He is under _my_ protection.’

The hand within her own twitched, and Becca was pulled back to the moment. Michael was pale under the moonlight, his skin a stark contrast against the dark of his sheets. Now, though, as his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks in an attempt to open, he no longer looked as though he would slip away from them the moment she lost her vigil to fatigue. Michael lived. It was all that mattered.

‘You’re alive.’ Becca tried so hard not to cry, but her voice broke anyway. Thank God, if he were still out there somewhere.

Michael’s eyes opened, and dark velvet gazed into her own eyes as consciousness came back to the angel. _That’s right, look at me_ , she thought, _I stayed with you all this time fearing for your life. I’d die with you if you didn’t make it. I love you so much, Michael, Michael, Michael…_ He blinked, before his sense of priority, too, came back.

‘I need to see Alex.’ He said.

Becca swore she would have slapped Michael had he not been busy dying for the past day that had felt like centuries – or had she had not been busy dying inside as his true feelings came out and lo and behold, they were not for her. They argued in that passive-aggressive way of theirs about _her_ love life, and God, she did not need this. All she had ever wanted, needed, was Michael, and this he was determined not to give her. He would die for her, but he would live for Alex Lannon. Becca wanted to laugh, and then she wanted to cry her eyes out like a girl all over again.

‘What made you think I’m capable of _love_?’ The angel had a way of making the word sound like a curse. Deep inside, though, she knew that he loved – that was the only explanation for what he did, and how much he would put into watching over the life of a child who grew into mankind’s saviour for twenty five long years.

Becca voiced her opinion, and when Michael only stared back at her with eyes hard as stone, she knew the battle was lost.

When Michael did kiss her in the end, it was ash and blood she tasted in her mouth. Becca supposed that was how jealousy and resignation tasted.


End file.
